


Somebody to love

by thislooksimportant



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angry Brian May, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunken Confessions, Getting Together, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, hurt Roger Taylor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-20 07:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17018535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thislooksimportant/pseuds/thislooksimportant
Summary: Roger’s head snapped round almost immediately and he glared at Freddie. “No. Not that one.”“Come on, darling. We need to practice–”“I said no, Fred. I’m not doing that one today.”“And it only matters what you want, right?”Even John winced at Brian’s sharp tone and Roger turned back to his friend with shock all over his face.“Excuse me?”“What Roger wants, Roger fucking gets. Who cares what anybody else wants, as long as Roger is fucking happy, right?”/Brian and Roger are the best of friends, until one drunken night that Roger can't remember.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This totally came from that video that I'm sure everyone has seen by now - the one where the guys are singing 'Killer Queen' and Brian rolls his eyes when they finish and Roger looks like he's about to cry? Well, for some reason I can't stop watching it and, thus, this was born!!
> 
> (Italics are a flashback)

Roger sighed deeply, spinning absentmindedly on his drum stool and hitting his sticks against his knee. It had been 3 weeks now and he and Brian had barely said a word to each other. They were best friends, for God’s sake, and now they were acting like strangers. It wasn’t even for a good reason. Well, not good enough anyway.

All Roger had done was get a little drunk. That was nothing new in itself; Roger got drunk a lot, but he hadn’t thought that he’d been any worse than usual… well. Not that he could really remember. It was the night they’d spent in Birmingham that matched the timing, the night that Roger had completely forgotten. But it wasn’t like he’d done anything _awful,_ that much he would have definitely remembered. And Freddie and John were fine with him, so he can’t have been a _total_ arse. Roger got drunk around Brian a lot and, whilst Brian didn’t often indulge, his friend had never minded. What exactly had Roger done to Brian?

They were the best of friends; what the hell had been so bad that had caused all of this? Brian wasn’t talking to him and it was pretty fucking obvious that it was only getting worse.

“Alright, darlings!” Freddie waltzed into the studio, throwing his coat over the couch in the corner and heading over to the piano. “Are we all ready?”

John lifted his head from his book and raised his eyebrows. “I am,” he said, “I don’t know about drama queen on the drums.”

Roger scowled even as John shot him a cheeky smirk. “Oh, bite me. I’m ready.”

Brian scoffed and Roger’s head shot to him. “Excuse me? What the fuck was that for?”

Brian shook his head and stood up to get his guitar, not giving Roger an answer. Roger followed him, jumping up from behind his drums and walking over to Brian with purpose.

“Oi; what was that scoff for?”

Brian stayed quiet, but before Roger could say anything else, Freddie clapped his hands and drew their attention.

“Okay, guys. Settle down. New song today. Rog, you okay to back me on vocals?”

Roger kept his eyes on Brian’s even as he answered Freddie. “What are we doing?”

“Somebody–”

Roger’s head snapped round almost immediately and he glared at Freddie. “No. Not that one.”

“Come on, darling. We need to practice–”

“I said no, Fred. I’m not doing that one today.”

“And it only matters what you want, right?”

Even John winced at Brian’s sharp tone and Roger turned back to his friend with shock all over his face.

“Excuse me?”

“What Roger wants, Roger fucking gets. Who cares what anybody else wants, as long as Roger is fucking happy, right?”

“Oh my God.” Roger swallowed thickly and blinked a few times to clear his vision. “Is that really–,” he cut himself off and shook his head. “Wow. Ten years and that’s what you think.”

Roger whistled softly and clapped his hands, spinning to face Freddie and John who were watching cautiously. “Right then. Fine. _Somebody to Love._ Vocals or instruments first?”

When no one moved, Roger set his jaw, repeating his question with anger behind every word.

“Instruments,” John finally decided, still looking a little uneasy. “Instruments first and we’ll work on the backing vocals later.”

Roger headed to his drums in silence, head bowed as he set up his kit. He could feel Freddie’s eyes boring into the side of his head, but he didn’t look up.

Eventually, everyone was ready to start and Freddie finally looked away to sit down at the piano and count them in. Roger relaxed a little when Freddie started singing and they could all just focus on the music and not on their petty squabbles.

The relaxation didn’t last long as Roger’s mind began to wander. The drum line wasn’t a particularly difficult one and it was too easy to focus on what Freddie was signing instead of his own part.

Roger had been the influence of Freddie’s lyrics, much to his embarrassment, but they really were fitting for the situation he found himself in. Desperately and hopelessly in love with no one to share it with.

_“Fred?”_

_Freddie looked up from the notepaper on the piano to see Roger standing in the doorway. Roger knew what he looked like with his shirt hanging open and long hair messy around his face and rolled his eyes when Freddie winked dirtily at him._

_“Hey, darling. You’re missing the party.”_

_Roger sighed and threw himself down on the armchair near the grand that Freddie was sat at. “It’s winding down. It was ‘find a corner or get out’ time.”_

_“Ah.” Freddie nodded in understanding and scribbled something out on the page in front of him before he looked back over. “No corner?”_

_Roger sighed deeply, petulantly. “No,” he said. He could feel a pout making its way onto his face and the amount of alcohol that he’d had meant he could do little to stop it. He could see Freddie eyeing him as well, but he really didn’t want to get into it. There was a moment of silence before Freddie sighed._

_“Is Chrissie–”_

_“Yes.” Roger cut Freddie off before he could finish his question. Yes, Chrissie was at the party. She had been hanging all over Brian for the entire night, acting as though they were actually together. Which they weren’t. Right?_

_“What about Dominique?”_

_“No.” Roger picked at a loose thread at the bottom of his shirt, blinking a few times to try and focus on the thin piece of material. Dominique was a lovely girl with gorgeous clothes and a beautiful face and everyone was convinced they’d be perfect for each other, but she just didn’t do it for Roger. Not now; no one was really doing it for him at the moment. Well. With one slight exception in the form of his very male best friend and bandmate._

_“No,” Roger said again. “Not tonight.”_

_“Oh. Still?”_

_Roger swallowed and nodded to Freddie’s question. “Always, Fred. It’s already been years and it will be even longer.”_

_“Darling.” Freddie stood up and squashed himself down next to Roger in the armchair, poking Roger and wiggling until he could fit into the tiny gap between the arm and Roger’s body._

_“Oh, come on, Fred,” Roger moaned, even as he budged over to let Freddie squash down next to him. “You’re too big to fit here.”_

_“Oh shush, you,” Freddie said, curling into Roger’s side and dropping his head onto Roger’s shoulder. They were quiet for a moment as Roger pulled Freddie closer, stroking his thumb in soothing circles against Freddie’s arm. “I’ve written something for you, you know.”_

_“Yeah? Upbeat and sexy?”_

_Freddie scoffed, lifting his legs to wrap his arms around his knees. “It’s a ballad.”_

_“No.” Damn, Roger was really starting to hate that word tonight. “Not a ballad.”_

_“It’s beautiful!”_

_Freddie sounded offended and it really wasn’t what Roger wanted right then. He tilted his head and rested his cheeks against the mess that was Freddie’s hair. “I’m sure it is, Fred, and that’s not the problem. But not now, okay? I don’t think I can do that right now, not all slow and soppy. Add some drums and a bassline, please? Do it for me?”_

_Freddie huffed, but they way that he snuggled closer told Roger he wasn’t actually offended. “Okay. But just this once. The next one will be a ballad.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_There was another moment of quiet and the soft sounds of the party’s music floating through the air and the warmth of Freddie next to him was enough to send Roger off to sleep._

_“You should tell him.”_

_Roger stirred. “What?”_

_“You really should tell Brian. You might be surprised by his reaction.”_

_Roger bit his lip and shook his head. He really was not drunk enough for this conversation._

_“Seriously, Rog. I don’t know why you–”_

_“Not tonight.” Roger turned to bury his face in Freddie’s hair, pressing his lips to Freddie’s scalp in a soft kiss. “Not tonight, Fred.”_

_“Okay.” Freddie’s voice was rarely so quiet and Roger felt an unexpected surge of emotion in his stomach. “I’ll add a beat.”_

And add a beat he had. Freddie had gone back to the song and added that flair that was so uniquely _him._

It didn’t change the words though; those still rang true, a little too close to home. Because Roger did want someone to love, someone to share his life with. He had found that person and even if they would never be together, Roger would be okay. As long as Brian could be in Roger’s life, everything would be fine.

Except now it didn’t seem that that was true. Brian wasn’t talking to him and he seemed to be utterly furious with him for no apparent reason. Roger’s best friend, and suddenly it was almost as if they were strangers.

Roger was tired of being alone and he really thought he’d been onto something with Brian. Well, now he guessed not.

Freddie suddenly let out a loud laugh, jolting Roger out of his haze.

“Sorry, sorry,” Freddie said, waving his hands in the air breezily. “I totally messed that up.”

“At least it wasn’t Roger, for a change.”

Even though Brian’s words were muttered, everyone heard them. Roger stared at Brian in shock, his mouth hanging open.

“What the fuck?”

Brian winced, but didn’t turn to face Roger behind him. Roger kept staring at Brian’s back as Brian put down his guitar, fiddling with the sheet music on his stand. The tension in the room went nowhere, silence stretching even further and the awkwardness ramping up with every pairing moment.

Roger dropped his gaze when Freddie and John exchanged a heated glance, not wanting to watch an entire unspoken conversation going between them that would no doubt be full of pity.

“Okay.” John was the first to move, copying Brian in putting down his instrument and reaching for his music on the sofa near the wall. “Vocals time?”

Freddie leapt up from the piano almost immediately, nodding as he dragged a chair over to John. “Yeah. I tweaked the falsetto line, Rog, so you might want to take a minute to look over it.”

Roger gave a slight incline of his head, not trusting his voice just then. For Brian to snap he had to really be in a foul mood and that in itself was almost unheard of. Roger could be a right bitch most of the time and Freddie’s words hurt when he wanted them to. Hell, even John could cut people down when he was tired and angry, but not Brian. Well, not until now. And it was all aimed at Roger.

 

 

/

 

 

Roger winced as he missed yet another note. They’d been at it for ages now, hours even, and he was still struggling. He knew the piece, could feel the harmony in his whole body, and yet he couldn’t get the note when he opened his mouth to sing.

It didn’t help that Brian was opposite him, huffing and puffing every time that they had to start over, tutting when Roger apologised again and again.

With each attempt, Roger was feeling worse and worse, curling into himself a little more every time that Brian looked heavenwards or clicked his tongue in frustration. Roger was getting close to tears – and he _hated_ to cry. Seriously hated it. It made his eyes red and his head hurt, made his skin blotchy and his voice all deep and husky. He hated it and he was trying so, so hard to not break down.

But Roger could only hold out so long and he was really reaching the end of his rope.

 

When they tried one last time and Roger missed his note, it was the final straw. Brian rolled his eyes so hard it looked like he might get stuck with that expression and he shook his head derisively. Roger lost the tiny bit of patience that he had left and let anger replace the hurt and embarrassment he’d been feeling all day.

“Okay,” he yelled, throwing down his headphones and rounding on Brian, feeling a perverse sense of satisfaction at the shock on Brian’s face. “You better tell me right the fuck now what’s going on inside your head. Whatever I did to you, I’m sorry, but there’s no way we can move on if I don’t actually know what I did!”

Brian huffed and Roger snarled.

“Don’t you _dare_. Don’t brush me aside and ignore me. Talk to me, you coward, You’re my best friend, Bri. You’re better than this.”

“Friends?” Brian held Roger’s gaze. “Don’t make me laugh.”

Roger stared in utter shock as Brian stormed out of the studio leaving silence in his wake. No one knew what to say, that much was obvious, but Roger didn’t want to hear anything anyway.

The breaking of his heart was more than enough to concentrate on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Chapter two out of three!! 
> 
> There's a lot of swearing and sadness and angry yelling in this one. 
> 
> Also [here is the video](https://www.instagram.com/p/BrUBpngB5_9/) of the guys singing 'Killer Queen'. There are a lot of these floating around, but this one is very clear. I love Brian's angry face and Roger's sad eyes.
> 
> Okay, on with the angst!

Vodka had never been his favourite drink, but it was just what Roger needed. He hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol in the three weeks since the night he’d forgotten, too scared of doing something even worse to his friend, but now he really needed to lose himself.

John had been round earlier in the evening, sitting with Roger in silence for a few hours. He’d wrapped an arm around Roger when he’d started crying and pretended not to notice Roger’s useless attempts at wiping his eyes and hiding his red cheeks.

Neither of them had mentioned Brian, though John had hugged him a little harder than normal when he left and hadn’t pulled his usual face when Roger brushed a shaky kiss to the apple of his cheek.

Ten years. Roger had known Brian for ten years and had never gone so long without talking to him. Any arguments they’d had had been relatively small and had been sorted out in a matter of days.

Not this one, though. Roger took another swig of vodka, grimacing at the hot burn but swallowing greedily anyway, too eager for the haze he knew it would bring.

Without Brian, well… Roger wasn’t sure what he would do.

There had always been Brian. A life without his best friend didn’t bear thinking about.

/

Roger knocked on Brian’s door, shuffling awkwardly while he waited and wrapping his arms around himself when he pulled his hand back. He was perfectly sober in the cold light of day, but he really wished he wasn’t. It was also blooming cold standing on the doorstep of Brian’s flat waiting, hoping, for the other man to answer.

Roger looked up when the door finally opened. He had a whole speech prepared, but when faced with the sight of Brian in all his glory, – old jeans and a soft maroon jumper – any semblance of clear thought flew right out of his brain.

Brian’s eyebrows lifted to his hair line as he stood there in silence. Roger held out all of two minutes before he broke down.

“Are you gonna let me in, mate? It’s bloody freezing out here.”

There was another beat of silence before Brian stepped back ever so slightly, leaving a small gap for Roger to squeeze through to enter Brian’s flat.

When inside, Roger headed straight for the living room, taking in the familiar surroundings. It had only been three weeks since he’d been in his friend’s place, but it felt like so much longer. Nothing had changed in the small flat and yet Roger felt uncomfortable, as though he was out of place. Where he would normally be throwing himself down onto the couch or heading to the kitchen to get himself some food or make a drink, now he was hovering awkwardly by the sofa and trying to get his best friend to actually look at him.

“What are you doing here, Roger?”

Roger tried not to wince at Brian’s tone, sharp and yet somehow soft, defeated almost.

“I wanted to see you. Wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought I’d make it clear enough that that wasn’t what I wanted.”

“Yeah, I know,” Roger said quietly. He finally sat down, dropping onto the settee behind him and keeping his eyes on Brian, still standing in the doorway. “I know and I’m sorry, but I want to know why. Please, Bri, please tell me what I did. I can’t go on like this.”

Brian’s tongue poked out, wetting his lips as he looked away from Roger.

“Come on.” Roger would have been ashamed of how his voice cracked if it had been anyone but Brian in front of him. “What did I do? Please tell me.” God, he was just repeating the same three things and he sounded like a damn broken record. “You have to know I’m sorry for whatever it was. I obviously didn’t mean it.”

Brian finally looked over at Roger and the young man was taken aback at the anger and, even worse, the hurt in his friend’s expression.

“Fucking hell,” Roger moaned, his heart beating rapidly and his stomach clenching with guilt-caused nausea. “What the hell did I do? I know I can be a dick when I drink. But seriously, Bri. I’m so sorry. Just tell me and I’ll never do it again.”

“I never thought you could be so cruel,” Brian started, his voice low and weak.

Roger startled almost violently at that. Cruel? Christ, what the hell had he drunk that night? Bloody absinthe straight from the bottle? Fuck, he was such a prick.

“An asshole,” Brian continued, “sure. Especially when you drink; you’re annoying and needy and loud.”

Well. Roger guessed he deserved that. It was all true, even if it made him feel like shit.

“But you were never cruel. You really were the last person that I ever thought would do that to me, to take my… to throw it all in my face.”

“Take what?” Roger stood when Brian broke their eye contact and shook his head sharply. “Brian, what did I throw in your face?”

“Like you don’t know,” Brian scoffed. “Don’t try and pretend you’ve forgotten now. All these years and you’ve never brought it up, but that night. Jesus, Rog. You were such an ass– ”

“Why?” Roger practically yelled, fed up of not knowing what was going on. “How was I any different to usual? I’m sorry if my drunken self had less restraint than I usually do and I got a little handsy. Sorry that you can’t handle my feelings.”

“Your feelings? What about my fucking feelings?” Brian roared, his voice uncharacteristically loud and shocking Roger into silence. “My feelings, Roger.” Brian repeated, this time softer and yet somehow sounding more broken.

‘My feelings’. Roger stared at Brian when he heard those words, feeling as though he had heard them before. No, he’d definitely heard them before. Someone had said that to him recently.

_ Roger stumbled into the wall, laughing as though it was a comedy sketch, head thrown back and mouth wide open. He felt so light, worries far away and body feeling like it was floating. He turned when he felt hands slipping around his waist and a smile spread across his face when he saw who they belonged to. _

_ “Brian,” he said happily, leaning into the hand as Brian helped him to stand and start to walk again. “What are you doing here?” _

_ Brian returned the smile, though there was a certain wistfulness to it that Roger was too drunk to decipher. “Thought you’d need a hand back to the room.” _

_ “Oh,” Roger said happily, sliding a hand up to cup Brian’s neck and giving a sloppy wink. “I see.” _

_ Brian rolled his eyes, making Roger laugh again. “Get your mind out of the gutter, you daft sod. You’re too drunk to get it up now anyway.” _

_ Roger stopped walking, making Brian stumble into him. “Hey,” he said as seriously as he could in his inebriated state. “If you were in my bed, it would never go down.” Nailed it, he thought to himself, such a romantic. _

_ Roger sighed when Brian brushed his comment aside and started moving them down the corridor again. They were in a fancy hotel, staying in Birmingham after a gig, and there had been a party downstairs in the bar for them. Roger had told himself that he wasn’t going to drink, but then he’d seen Brian in his stupid, tight clothes with his stupid, perfect hair. When Roger hadn’t been able to get near his best friend for the hordes of men and women hanging all over the guitarist, he’d gladly accepted offers of some drinks and propped the bar up all night instead. He hadn’t noticed how drunk he was until he’d tried to leave. Alone, he might add. _

_ His balls were going to fall off if he kept going to bed alone, but the only way he could get off was to imagine Brian and that just wasn’t fair to whoever he tried to hook up with. _

_ “Rog?” _

_ Roger startled when Brian’s voice came, close to his ear and sending a shiver down his spine. _

_ “You with me?” _

_ Roger couldn’t help the moan that escaped him at the combination of Brian’s words and his hot breath tickling his neck. _

_ “You okay, mate?” _

_ Oh, right. Words. Brian was expecting Roger to say words. _

_ “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good, Bri. Just had a couple too many, I guess.” _

_ They were silent as they carried onto Roger’s room. When they got to the door, Roger made no effort to get out of his friend’s weak hold. Instead, he tightened his grip of Brian’s neck and lifted his other hand to rest it upon Brian’s chest. He forgot what he was going to say as he felt Brian’s lean muscles under his palm, so sinful and so perfect. _

_ “Roger?” _

_ Keeping his hand on Brian’s chest, Roger slowly dragged his eyes up to meet Brian’s. They were blown wide, all dark and lustful. Roger’s tongue poked out to wet his suddenly dry lips and he felt something victorious deep in his stomach when Brian’s gaze dropped to follow the movement. _

_ “Come inside,” Roger said, his voice husky and low. “Come with me, Brian. Kiss me.” _

_ Maybe Roger would regret this when he was sober. Maybe he was ruining everything. Maybe he would hate himself for this and would spend the next weeks crying over the loss of his best friend and bandmate. God, he was going to regret this no matter what the outcome was, a tiny little voice somewhere in the back of his head yelled. There had to be better ways of announcing his feelings of deep love rather than propositioning someone when almost black-out drunk. _

_ But he just couldn’t help himself. Brian smelled so good and looked so wonderful. He held Roger so tightly and it was as if their bodies were made to fit together, hands moulding round hips like they had always been there. Roger had spent so many years being so good and holding so much back, but he couldn’t do it anymore. _

_ Pressed almost head to toe with Brian’s hot body, warmth seeping through their thin clothes and eyes locked together, Roger couldn’t bite his tongue. _

_ “Wouldn’t you like it, baby?” The pet name slipped past his lips before he could stop it, though judging the way that Brian’s hands flexed over his hips it didn’t seem as though the other man minded. _

_ “Don’t you want to know how I feel? To know me inside and out. Make me moan with your hands, Brian, make me scream your name. Do you want me, baby? Cause I’ll be yours if you do. Imagine it, Bri.” Now that Roger had started, he just couldn’t stop. The words were rolling off his tongue and he could feel himself hardening, pressing himself subconsciously against Brian. _

_ “I want you so badly. I want you to fuck me and don’t ever stop. Just once; you and me. Wouldn’t it be good?” Roger’s eyes rolled back and he swayed forward, sliding his hands up to the top of Brian’s neck and curling his fingers into the other man’s hair. His voice dropped even lower as he carried on. _

_ “Your hands all over my body, me bending to your every whim. I would be so good for you, I swear. I’d make it all worth it. You’d like it, wouldn’t you? Tell me you’ve wanted me and I’ll make every dream you’ve ever had come true. One night and I’ll be yours.” _

_ Roger jolted when his back hit the door, the cold doorknob shocking him as it pressed into his side. _

_ “Fuck you, Roger.” _

_ Roger blinked stupidly as he registered Brian shoving at him, his hands tight around the tops of Roger’s arms. _

_ “You bastard,” he heard in a low growl, harsh and snapped. _

_ “Brian?” Roger blinked again, struggling against Brian’s hold. “Ow. Ow, get off me.” _

_ “How could you? When you know how I… I’ve got feelings, Roger. Just because you don’t doesn’t mean you can use me like a fucking sex toy.” _

_ When Roger didn’t say anything more, his mouth open in shock and his brain too hazy to think of anything quick enough, Brian sighed deeply. _

_ “Get some sleep, Roger. Sleep it off and don’t be such a prick tomorrow.” _

Roger let out a shaky breath, standing stock still with his mouth hanging open. He stared at Brian completely unmoving, eyes wide in horror.

“Fucking hell, Brian.” Roger didn’t want to believe what he’d remembered, but the evidence was there in his head. “You’re acting like this because I propositioned you? Jesus, I thought you were better than that.”

Brian scoffed derisively and held up his hand. “Don’t start that. You know I don’t have a problem with that, you dick. Bit hypocritical of me, wouldn’t you think? I’ve been in a mood because you were an asshole. How could you do that to me?”

Roger threw his hands up. “Do what? I asked you to kiss me one time–”

“But I don’t want to kiss you once, do I?” Brian screamed, surging forward and towering over Roger. “You know I’m in love with you and you threw it in my face. Asking me to take you once because  _ you  _ finally wanted it. Acting like you actually fancied me back when all you wanted was a quick fuck because you were alone and horny. You offered me everything I’ve ever wanted on a silver fucking platter whilst making it very fucking clear that it was only for one  _ fucking  _ night and I’d never have it again.”

Roger gasped for air suddenly, feeling as though there was simultaneously a hand around his throat and someone punching him in the chest. He’d never heard Brian so angry or to swear so much in one go. Not even when Tim had left them high and dry, yelling all manner of vile slurs on his way out, had Brian snapped so badly.

“You…” Roger cleared his throat when his voice came out choked up and tight. “You love me?”

Brian glared at him with such venom that Roger took a step backwards. “Don’t you fucking dare, Roger. You knew. You’ve always known.”

Roger shook his head weakly, tears blurring his vision. “I didn’t.” His voice was still feeble, shaking. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but he could see it in his friend’s eyes. “Brian, I swear, I didn’t know.”

He took another step back, feeling as though his legs were going to give out. He’d honestly had no clue and now Brian was saying these things, telling him that he’d been in…

“I would never.” Roger closed his eyes for a moment, trying to regain some tiny amount of control over the situation. “I would  _ never  _ do that,” he whispered vehemently, forcing as much fierceness into the statement as he could. “You know I wouldn’t have done that.”

“But you did!” Brian’s voice made Roger flinch, yet Roger couldn’t blame the other man. Brian had every right to be furious; the mere thought of having his own love rejected and thrown back in his face made Roger feel ill.

“You did do it, Roger. You kept saying how it would just be once; just the one time that you would be mine. You’d let me touch you for one night only, all the time knowing that I was dying inside at the thought of never having you again. Don’t you think it’s bad enough that I have to watch you parade around all day every day knowing I’ll never have you? Having to watch you take home a different guy every night?”

Roger couldn’t help his flinch at that. Okay, so he wasn’t celibate, not by a long shot, but he also wasn’t  _ that _ bad. Especially not lately; he hadn’t had a partner in months. Pathetic really. Sure, he still picked guys up in bars or let someone push him against a wall at a party, let them kiss down his neck whilst he stared at Brian through half-lidded eyes. No further though; he couldn’t.

Something flashed in Brian’s eyes at Roger’s pain before it was shoved down.

“I could deal with all of that, though. I could cope with you hugging me after a gig, could deal with holding you when you cried. I could even cope with you falling asleep with me.” Brian paused and gave a small shrug. “Well, I longed for that sometimes. I managed for so fucking long to stamp down my feelings, the embarrassment of having everyone know and you not returning them, not wanting me. Sometimes it was so easy to hope; when you’d look over at me with your stupid smirk or how you nudge me playfully whenever Fred teases me. God, when you get hit on at the pub and you run to me, it’s just so fucking easy to pretend.”

Roger couldn’t stop the tear that fell from his eye. Everything Brian was describing had been exactly his own experiences and he had had no idea that Brian had been feeling it as well.

Brian spoke again, seemingly never going to stop now that he had started. He was never one for huge speeches and now that the dam had broken, everything was pouring out.

“Having you ignore it all hurt, but, God, it was better than this. I would so rather you forgot everything again than be such a vile bastard and use my love for you to get off.”

“I didn’t.” Roger finally found strength in his voice again and pushed back, keeping his eyes on Brian’s. “I swear to you, I had no idea. How could I? You’re saying you…”  _ love me _ . 

It was frankly laughable, and yet neither of them were laughing.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're done!! I finished and I hope that this is a satisfying ending for you all. Thank you for the overwhelming response. I am on tumblr as [onlydogscanhearme](https://onlydogscanhearme.tumblr.com/) if you want to come and chat about whatever or scream at me. Have a lovely Christmas everyone!

“Stop it,” Brian spat. “Stop acting like you’re the victim in all of this. Five years I’ve been in love with you and–”

“Five years?” Roger’s voice reached a new high, cracking as he exclaimed, but Brian barely hesitated.

“Probably even longer, but that’s how long you’ve known.”

“I didn’t fucking know!” Roger yelled, arms thrown wide in exasperation, anger biting into his tone. “Do you honestly think I wouldn’t have done anything if I had found out you were in love with me?”

“Well,” Brian said, voice very obviously shaking, “you didn’t, did you?”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Brian flinched violently and looked away sharply, hands curling into fists at his side. “Get out, Roger. The last thing I need is your fucking pity.”

“It’s not.” Roger’s head was spinning, too many thoughts trying to get to the front at once. One thing that he was clear on was that he wasn’t going anywhere. “It’s not pity, I swear. You have to believe me when I–”

“I don’t have to do anything for you–”

“I didn’t know. Bri, I’ll say it until I’m blue in the face, but I didn’t know. What can I do to make you believe me? I would have never, _never,_ thrown anything in your face. And, baby, if I’d have known, we’d be married and living in the South of fucking France by now. I never knew. Honest.”

Brian’s expression didn’t lose any of its hurt even as he scrutinized Roger’s. “I told… you didn’t know?”

Roger stepped forward, inching closer oh so slowly as though Brian would startle and flee at a sudden movement. “I’d be yours if I did.”

“Years, Rog.”

Roger could see Brian’s hands starting to shake and he longed to reach out. It was hard to refrain, though the knowledge that his touch wouldn’t be welcomed made Roger tuck his hands behind his back.

“I told you after Tim left us. When we’d met John and we’d started making it. I couldn’t hold out any longer.”

Roger’s breath caught in his throat again. He stood in silence, not wanting to disturb Brian and, at the same time, trying to regain control. He hated feeling so weak so often – though he supposed if there was one person he could let see him like this, it would be Brian.

“It was right after we’d started touring,” Brian said, voice eerily steady. “You were just so happy and carefree for the first time since that bastard had gone and I couldn’t help but fall. I’d always fancied you, even when you were with him…”

 _Wait, what?_ Roger questioned to himself, _it had really been that long?_ Brian had been part of the reason that Tim had gone – because Roger broke up with him due to his feelings for their lead guitarist – but to hear that was truly shocking.

“And then it just got deeper and deeper. With every smile and every drum solo, I fell harder until there was no getting back up. So I told you. That night that Tim turned up at the gig, the one in Leeds. You were drunk when we got to the hotel, remember?”

“Yes.”  Roger cleared his throat when his voice came out as nothing more than a hoarse whisper. “Yeah, I remember. I remember that whole night and you never told me… I wasn’t that drunk and you sure as hell never said anything.”

“I wrote it.”

“What?”

Brian swallowed, eyes locked on Roger’s. “I wrote you a note that night. Left it on your pillow after I’d put you to bed. It said everything, rushed and under-explained, sure, but it said enough. It also said that I was going to be at the pub round the corner from your flat waiting for you on that Saturday when we got home. If you didn’t come, then you didn’t want me and we agreed we’d never speak of it again.”

“And I...”

Brian swallowed thickly, Roger’s eyes dropping to the movement. “You never showed. Never made any sign that you’d gotten my note, either. I thought you were just being a good friend, ignoring the fact that I’d spilled my guts to you and wanting to move on. So I did.”

“Until-”

“Well, I tried to move on,” Brian interrupted. “I was doing so _fucking_ well. Because at least I’d tried, right? I’d told you and I’d left the ball in your court, so watching you go curl up against other men was okay because at least I’d tried and given you the chance. I wouldn’t always be thinking and wondering.”

Roger bit his lip and blinked rapidly, waiting for Brian to come back into focus as his tears cleared. Fuck; he could have had this for years? He didn’t know what to think, what to do. He wanted to simultaneously run away screaming and throw himself into Brian’s arms. Confusion, shock, and disbelief were battling it out and he didn’t know which way to go. His head was starting to pound and his stomach was in utter knots, eyes stinging with unshed tears.

“I didn’t get it.” Roger seemed stuck on that phrase. This whole conversation was blowing his mind, but that was the one thing he was clear on. “I would have been there. If I’d have gotten that invitation, you have to know I’d have been there. There was no note when I woke up, I promise you.”

Brian didn’t say anything for a long moment and Roger dared not move, dared not even blink.

“Why did you do it? That night,” Brian clarified, eyes locked on Roger’s, “why did you do it that night?”

“I’d had enough.” Now he’d remembered some of that night, it was all flooding back to Roger. They were the same feelings he’d had every day, anyway, so it was simple enough to explain. “I’d finally grown tired of hiding from you, pretending that I didn’t love you. That night I was drunk enough to not care. I let all my inhibitions go and took a chance. Went after what I’d wanted for years. I knew you didn’t love me, but I figured you might at least go for one night. I’d gotten so desperate that I just wanted you any way I could have you. One night was better than the pain of longing.”

If Brian had been so honest and forthcoming, then Roger could be too. Even if it was making his heart pound and his palms sweat. Maybe it was stupid to feel so nervous when Brian had just confessed his own love, but it was still nerve-wracking. There was, after all, a tiny, tiny percent chance that this was all just a crazy joke or a trap set to catch Roger out.

“I never wanted to make you uncomfortable or hurt you. I figured if you rejected me I could just say I was drunk, you know? Pretend I had no idea what I’d done. Well, didn’t actually have to pretend, did I? I couldn’t remember shit until earlier. Guess I’d blocked it all out because I was such a prick.”

“You really didn’t know?”

Roger lifted his hand slowly and reached out to take Brian’s. At the first touch of skin against skin, his knees nearly buckled. “Brian, you have to know me by now. I would never, ever, hurt you on purpose. I never got any note from you and I didn’t have an inkling. I wished, of course, but I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want to think you did. Sometimes I’d pretend that I never left you that note and that there was still a chance I could confess to you. It was hell to think that you’d acted like that because you’d…”

“I know what it seems like. God, what you must have thought. Having your heart stomped all over by a flirty little shit eager to jump anything to get his rocks off.”

“You’re not.” Brian turned his hand over beneath Roger’s and linked their fingers together, squeezing tightly. “You aren’t that, Rog. I should have… I don’t know, asked or something. Spoken about it once in all these fucking years, even if it would have killed me. Please don’t think you’re… that.”

Roger smiled sadly at the protectiveness to Brian’s voice. “I am, though. You were right the first time. I spent so many years rushing into bed with a hundred men, waltzing them in front of you in the hope that it would make you so mad you’d finally snap and take me. I didn’t even _think_ what it would feel like for you if you did actually want me in the first place. I was just so hung up on my own feelings, my own pain.”

“I love you.”

Roger felt a bubble of laughter rise up, giddy and light, when Brian said that. So simple, so honest. He squeezed Brian’s hand and when Brian didn’t pull away, he took a step forward. Catching his lip between his teeth, he took a moment to calm himself before he opened his mouth. “I’m in love with you.”

Brian’s smile could have lit up the darkest room and Roger couldn’t help another laugh.

 

 

 

/

 

 

Roger tossed and turned, sighing deeply. The entire day had been a rollercoaster of emotions and he couldn’t sleep. Shortly after their confessions, Brian had asked Roger to leave. He’d said he was too overwhelmed, not sure what had been real and what he’d imagined, and he had needed some time alone to process it all. Whilst all Roger had wanted was to jump Brian and relish in finally having the man of his dreams in his arms, he understood why Brian needed to be alone. The combination of unrequited love, an argument with a best friend and having feelings played with and rejected would be too much for anyone to take and Roger had seen the confusion and pain in Brian’s eyes.

So, while it had almost killed him, Roger had stepped away and gone home, heart beating rapidly in his chest and a soft smile still on his face. There was a part of him that was terrified that being away from Brian would give the other man the time to change his mind and decide that he didn’t actually want to be with Roger.

But he really didn’t want to think about that, not when he was alone in bed miles away from where the man he loved was ‘thinking things over’. Just as he decided that it was no good and he was going to have to get up and do something to distract himself, the phone by his bed started ringing.

Roger reached for it blindly, lifting it to his ear as he muttered a hello.

“Come over.”

Roger squinted as he tried to place the voice. “Brian?”

“Yes.” There was a pause before a small sigh. “Come over.”

“It’s after midnight.”

“I know.” Roger settled back against his pillows and yawned as he waited for Brian to carry on talking. “And I know I asked you to leave, but that was a stupid decision. Come over.”

Roger couldn’t hide the smile in his voice even as he turned to bury his head into his pillow, trying to bit down on his squeal. “Okay,” he finally said, hands tightening around the phone. “I’m on my way.”

 

 

/

 

 

When he got to Brian’s flat, the door was already open with its owner standing in the hallway and Roger couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

“Hey,” Roger whispered as he drew near. He barely had a chance to cross the threshold before Brian reached out and took him in his arms, pulling him flush against his body and wrapping his arms around Roger’s shoulders.

Almost immediately, Roger felt his entire body relaxing. He felt all of the worries he’d had over the course of the night - and the three weeks prior - leave his body as he buried even closer to Brian, tucking his head beneath the older man’s chin. One of Brian’s hands was splayed between Roger’s shoulder blades and the other was cupping the back of his head, fingers tangled in blond hair.

“Why did you go?” Brian muttered, turning his cheek to rest atop the other’s head.

Roger hid his smile against Brian’s collarbone as he lifted his arms to wrap them around the tall man’s waist. “You told me to, remember?”

“Well that was stupid. Never go anywhere ever again.”

Roger pressed even closer and let his eyes fall closed, taking a deep breath and relishing in the feel of Brian’s body against his. “Never,” he swore. “I’m where I should be now.”

The softest of kisses was placed on Roger’s temple and he felt his knees buckle. It was some stupid time in the morning and he’d barely slept for days, too worried about his best friend and their relationship, but right now he was perfect. There was nothing in the world that Roger needed other than the embrace of the man he loved and the knowledge that he was loved back.

“Come to bed?”

Roger nodded, but made no effort to go anywhere. His breathing was starting to even out as the warmth of Brian’s body lulled him to sleep.

“Hey,” Brian jostled Roger slightly. “Come to bed. We have a lot to talk about in the morning.”

Roger squeezed Brian’s waist and lifted his head just enough to be able to speak. “Good talk?”

“I think so.” There was a moment of quiet followed by another soft kiss against hair. “I’m so sorry.”

Roger pulled back and finally looked into Brian’s eyes, bringing up a hand to cup his cheek. “We made it, right? It doesn’t matter what came before.”

Brian smiled and leant in to catch Roger’s lips in a sweet kiss. “Yeah, I’d say we did. I love you.” He paused and circled his hands on Roger’s back. “I’m _in_ love with you.”

“I’m in love with you too. No notes.”

Brian laughed, long and loud, and Roger felt a thousand times lighter. “No notes.”

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

They stumbled into the studio a little late the next morning, both completely exhausted and fighting back yawns, but with smiles bright on their faces and their eyes flickering over to the other every couple of minutes. When they took a break from practice, Roger walked over to Freddie and crouched down next to him by the piano.

“You know that ballad you wanted to write?”

Freddie looked up and Roger smiled at him softly, gaze shooting over to Brian laughing at something John was playing on his bass.

“Yeah?”

Roger looked back to Freddie and bit his lip, feeling uncharacteristically shy. “I think I might be ready for it.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my personal enjoyment, heavily influenced by the characters portrayed in the recent Bohemian Rhapsody film rather than the real-life people they were based on. Also, I have no hard feelings against Tim Staffell in any way, despite what is written in this work of fiction. I do not condone the showing of these works to any of the real-life characters mentioned or the invasion of their private lives.


End file.
